


Your Best Friend is Wearing A Dress! Now What?: a guide by kuroo tetsurou

by hopefulundertone (orphan_account)



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Gratuitous Usage of the word Bro, Just bros being bros, M/M, Prom
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 15:32:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8672773
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/hopefulundertone
Summary: "What the fuck, bro?"





	

**Author's Note:**

> i Never finish writing the fics that i really put love and effort into but u know what i do finish strange crack fics of ships i have a soft spot for so here u go! hope you enjoy :-)

“You have got to be kidding me.”  
Bokuto smirks. Kuroo leaves the room and comes back, desperately hoping it will reset the situation. It doesn't. Bokuto is still sprawled out on his bed, the damndest smirk still on his face, still wearing a motherfucking dress.  
Kuroo thinks he might pass out.  
“What the fuck, bro.”  
“Like what you see?” Bokuto’s wiggling his eyebrows.  
“Wh- how did you even get in here?”  
“Your mom let me in. She said I looked very pretty.” Bokuto looks all too proud of himself.  
“What the _fuck_.” Kuroo pronounces with feeling.  
“Remember that pact we made in junior high to bring each other to prom?”  
“I- I don't think that entailed wearing a dress. Also, we were like, nine, and didn't understand the concept of girls.”  
“Bro.” An arm that has won national matches, beaten countless rivals and earned its owner a place in Japan’s top five aces is pointed directly at him.  
“What?”  
“ _Bro_.” Gold eyes that have seen the view on the other side of the net countless times, conducted split-second analyses that have earned the deciding point in games and made countless girls swoon are fixed on him.  
Kuroo feels a bead of sweat roll down his temple.  
“What?!”  
“Are you fuckin’ chickening out?”  
“Bro.”  
“Are you, bro?”  
“Fuck you, no I’m not.”  
Bokuto sits back on the bed, his bed, a self-satisfied grin on his face. “Then take me to the Nekoma prom.”  
“Do you _have_ to wear the dress?”  
“Uh, yes, bro. You need to bring a pretty lady to prom, but clearly you can't, so I'll have to be one.”  
“Bro. Just saying, I'm the volleyball captain.”  
“So am I!”  
“Girls are tripping over themselves to ask me to prom.”  
“M-me too!” Bokuto ignores the doubtful look Kuroo shoots him and crosses his arms. “Anyways, you're taking me. So get your shit together.”  
The worst part is, Bokuto actually looks good. He'd clearly gone shopping with Akaashi, who had stunning fashion sense, because not only is the dress entirely void of owls, it's also a sleek black, ending mid-thigh to display long, slender legs, muscle definition obvious from long years of training. A simple white sash encircles his waist, tied off in a neat ribbon to the side. Kuroo thinks he can feel the blood rushing from his head, and reluctantly takes his eyes off of the dress, just in case he actually faints. Instead, he refocuses on Bokuto’s face, which carries the smuggest smirk he's ever seen.  
“Shut up.”  
“I didn't say anything! Just glad you appreciate the effort I put into this, bro.”  
“Fuck you.”  
“Admit it, Tetsurou. I’m the hottest fucking girl you've ever met.”  
“You're WAY hotter than any girl, bro. I'd treat you right, bro. If you'd let me. Bro.”  
There's a beat, where they're staring soulfully into the other’s eyes. Then, quietly, Bokuto whispers, “No homo, though.”  
It fucking sets both of them off, and within seconds, Bokuto’s laughing as hard as Kuroo’s ever seen him, loud, hearty chuckles that have him almost bent double, and Kuroo can't help but giggle along, because what the hell, his best friend is sitting on his damn bed, in a fucking dress, looking fly as hell, and Kuroo gets to bring him to prom. What in the actual fuck is his life?  
The laughing fit lasts almost ten minutes,  but it ends eventually, both of them lying back on his bed, Bokuto clutching his stomach. They're both still giggling weakly as Kuroo changes the subject. “So, why are you here?”  
“Well, I needed to remind you that we were going together, and Akaashi said you'd run away if I sprang the dress on you on prom night.”  
“You could've just texted, y’know? Mirror selfies are a thing.”  
"Nah. I don't think cameras can capture the actual glory that is me in a dress." Kuroo nods thoughtfully.  
Somehow, the dress doesn't seem to change anything. The rest of the evening goes as per their usual hangouts, which just means they play video games, drink the double six-pack of beer that Bokuto smuggled in his bag, meme non-stop and complain about things. Chiefly, Karasuno.  
“Fuckin’, fuckin’ Karasuno, man. Fuck them.”  
“Fuck them.” Kuroo nods in agreement.  
“Fuck. Themmm.” Bokuto pronounces, with great emphasis. They've made their way through the first six-pack, and are well into the second.   
“Fuck Karasuno.”  
“Fuck Tsukki.”  
“Dude, fuck Tsukki. But also, like, _fuck_ Tsukki, am I right?” Kuroo looks over into a pair of huge, liquid gold eyes. “Fuuuuuuuck yeah, dude. Shit, we should, like, call him or something. I haven't talked to any of them in ages.”  
“I talked to Daichi last week.” Kuroo tells him, with an air of confession.   
“Really? What the fuck, bro! Exclusive assholes.”  
“Nah, bro. We just facetimed, cos’ like, we were both up really late.”  
“Dude. What was it like?”  
“He cried.”  
“WHAT THE FUCK! You made Daichi cry?!”  
“Bro, no, bro. We just, like, talked about how we have to leave our teams behind, and how our juniors would have to take charge, and we wouldn't be part of those teams ever again, man. It was deep."   
Bokuto sniffles, and Kuroo looks over. “Bro. You crying, bro?”  
“No, bro. I just- fuck. I can't leave my team. Without Akaashi, who's gonna take care of me?”  
“Bro. I will, bro.”  
“Really, bro?”  
“Really.”  
A beat, and then Bokuto is clambering and squirming his ungainly way into Kuroo’s lap, sliding his arms around Kuroo’s neck and burying his face in Kuroo’s chest. He just goes with it, hugging him back. From somewhere in his t-shirt, there's a muffled, “I love you, bro.”  
“I love you too, bro.”  
“Tell me the truth. When Daichi cried, did you cry too?"  
“...”  
“Bro.”  
“Yeah. Fuck, I can't leave Kenma.”  
“Same. I can't believe Akaashi’s going to be captain.”  
“...”  
“Tell me you took a screenshot of crying Sawamura.”  
Kuroo doesn't reply, just pulls out his phone and hands it to Bokuto, who turns it on.  
A slightly pixelated photo of Karasuno’s captain, teary-eyed and sniffling, is his wallpaper.  
Bokuto practically howls with laughter, and just like that, the atmosphere lightens, shrugging off the heavy topic, and Kuroo's mind turns to more practical things. “Bro, are you staying over tonight?”

Outside, the sun has long set, and the lights of Tokyo shine through the dark night. Bokuto takes one look and makes a drunken, grumbling noise. “Yeah, bro.”  
“Did you bring clothes?”  
“Nah.”  
“S’fine. You can borrow mine.”

"I knew there was a reason I agreed to go to prom with you."

"Because no one else would take you?"

"Hey!" 

  
-

  
The next morning, Kuroo wakes up to Bokuto gently snoring into his chest, hair sticking in his face. He pulls his sleeping friend into a more comfortable position, and goes back to sleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> as low as the quality of my usual fics are, i think this one lowered the overall quality significantly haha  
> chapter 2 will be prom!! then probably a short epilogue :-)  
> feel free to comment and tell me what you think!


End file.
